MOLA:42 and his Dogs confront outdoor life in Humboldt

MOLA:42’s Guide to Cute Things My Dogs Did

wet dog

 

I’ve been threatening the Tuluwat Examiner staff for a long time now that I would write an article with that title. And they didn’t believe I’d do it…

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Not too long ago my dogs, Big Guy and Little Girl (names changed to protect the innocent) and I went day hiking to their favorite swimming hole.

It’s a nice place; the algae haven’t caught up with it yet, it’s deep enough to swim and I can still get to it. It’s also a good place because there is rarely anyone around (and no, No, NO! I will not tell you where it is).

I have my dogs for companionship, not protection. They might possibly be intimidating I guess… Big Guy is about 65 pounds and Little Girl is about 55 pounds. Still, they aren’t the kind of dogs with a “Tear Out Their Throats and Let God Sort Them Out” sort of disposition. They look about as dangerous as bunny rabbits.

Taking the walk from the parking area to the river, I noticed two people around. One was “the Rider,” a teenager operating an ATV with matching helmet.

The other was “the Wanderer,” around twenty, who would occasionally talk with the Rider when the Rider buzzed past him.

The first thing the Big Guy does is race off to his favorite bird hangout. It’s just some logs by the side of the river where his feathered friends get together. Big Guy loves to chase birds (he never catches anything) and it always seems as if they select a “volunteer” to keep him distracted.

My imagination goes into overdrive:

“Ah nuts. There’s that big goofy dog again. Whose turn is it?”

I think it’s Bob’s.”

“No way! I did it last time!”

“Luck of the draw, Bob. Beat wing.”

“That’s easy for you to say. Your last time was when the wiener dog came by. I could hop faster than it could run.”

“Make with the altitude Bob…”

“Oh… Okay…”

“And Bob… have FUN!”

“Stick it up your cloaca. I can’t wait to fly south for the winter…”

“About that … we might not have to do that this year.”

But I digress.

Big Guy was joyfully yapping his head off chasing the bird but Little Girl uncharacteristically stayed by my side. That’s when the Wanderer wandered in my direction.

He struck up a conversation and Little Girl started barking and growling at him.

That doesn’t mean too much… she barks and growls at most people. Last Christmas some of my brother’s friends came over to celebrate. She decided to make the life of one of our guests a Living Hell (she probably thought he was a Milk Bone thieving fiend), positioning herself 10 inches away and barking hysterically whenever he moved.

It was cute for about the first 30 seconds.

Eventually I threatened her that she would spend the rest of Christmas outside if she didn’t stop. That’s really not supposed to work but it does. Instead she suspiciously followed the guy around for the rest of the evening and made sure he didn’t steal anything.

Back to the story: Little Girl took a real dislike to the Wanderer. I got bad vibes from him too and was on my guard. Not that it would have done me much good… an old guy on two gimpy legs and a bad sense of balance does not present what one would call a “hard target”.

However… Even Riverside Muggers have to weigh their options. On the one hand… an easy mark. On the other hand… a Snarling Dog. And what would be the return? A few dollars and pocket lint.

Nonetheless pickings are probably lean out there so the Wanderer tried to distract my dog by tossing a rock into the river; Little Girl was having none of that. That ended the conversation and he wandered off (although Little Girl followed him for a few yards to test the Wanderer’s sincerity).

We went the rest of the way to the river and I tossed sticks for Little Girl, the idyllic scene repeatedly punctuated by Big Guy yelping past us like a noisy child after a bird who wished he had joined a flock that hung out by McDonalds.

I kept an eye on the Wanderer, who was talking again to the Rider. Then a fourth party nearby of whom I was not aware started shooting.

There is one thing guaranteed to spoil Big Guy’s day and that is gun fire. He hates all loud sounds: Fourth of July and New Year’s terrify him; a thunder storm brings to him the Agonies of Hell.

So, birds completely forgotten, off Big Guy went in abject terror and I couldn’t get him back. Usually he will run back to hide under the car… but sometimes…

So I immediately raced off with all the speed I could muster (approximately .2 MPH faster than I walk) and the quickest route took me past the Wanderer and the Rider.

The Wanderer was riding the ATV now and managed to flip it into the river. The Rider tore off his helmet and waded in to rescue the vehicle. The ensuing conversation made it obvious they did not know (or like) each other after all.

I couldn’t get to them to help and I had a dog to find so I left them playing out their drama. We (Little Girl and I) got to the parking area and sure enough found Big Guy cringing under the car.

Crisis over.

Then the Rider flashed by hell bent for leather and without his expensive helmet. Not wishing a repeat encounter with the Wanderer, I bundled dogs into the car and drove off.

Although…

Perhaps I didn’t just avoid a scenic riverside mugging. When one is young one feels indestructible but when one gets older, the indestructability wears off and one realizes how vulnerable we all are. So I admit to some paranoia.

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I guess I have to tie all this somehow to the modern political scene (the Tuluwat Examiner being a political blog and all).

So let me answer a question you probably did not ask: Why am I out there in the first place? Why don’t I go places that are safe both health-wise (since I fall down a lot) and crime-wise?

Well, where is safe? Whenever someone goes nuts and shoots up somewhere… the first thing out of people’s mouths is, “But this is such a nice, safe community! Nothing bad happens here!”

Folks… Life is dangerous. Life will eventually kill you; even if you spend it hiding under your bed in fear. Freedom is even more dangerous… it’s why folks are so happy to toss their Freedom into the dumpster when they get scared (Patriot Act, anyone?).

I live my life as best I can. I don’t recommend doing stupid things (like walking around the Devil’s Playground in Eureka flashing a wad of 20’s and 100’s to everyone you encounter). Just… recognize what is valuable in your life and do not surrender it without a fight.

I’ve lost much of my freedom due to my health. I’m sure as hell not going to give up any more than I have to; especially because the world has scary people in it.

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Standard Disclaimer: My opinions are my own and not necessarily those of the Tuluwat Examiner. I am not on the staff of the Tuluwat Examiner. I don’t even know who these people are. But I have just learned the Regressive DINO Activist Right, tired of the Indian Apologizing Left Leaning Hit Rag Tuluwat Examiner having the political blog field all to itself has decided to produce their own blog to tell the Real Truth on North Coast Issues.

Gunther Island chronical

The name of their new blog: The Gunther Island Chronicle.

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2 thoughts on “MOLA:42 and his Dogs confront outdoor life in Humboldt

  1. It is daunting at times, but we can’t let the lurky-loos have all of the cool spots. But, you can’t always judge a book by it’s cover, good and evil exist in surprising places…

    Liked by 3 people

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